Learning Boundaries
by ParadoxicalOne
Summary: [GSR] Part 1 ... Prequel to 'Putting It Together'. Grissom and Sara are under the pressure of the tension between them. Sara is trying to get over Gris. Gris is trying to leave Sara alone.
1. Chapter 1

_Learning Boundaries_

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_Disclaimer:_ Knock Knock ... Can _CSI _come out and play? ... Thanks ... I'll bring them back home before curfew. _CSI _belongs to CBS...

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Sara walked through the hallway feeling eyes on her. She had felt them for a long time. It was impossible to go through the night and not feel that scrutinizing gaze lingering on her every move.

She stepped into the breakroom and grabbed Nick's shoulder. He looked up at her with bright eyes – and an even brighter grin. No, that was not a grin – it was a smile. This was more serious than a whimsical grin. This was happiness. In response to Nick's grin, Sara supplied one of her own.

Grimacing at the sight, Grissom walked back into his office. He could stand watching her no longer. She was joking, smiling, laughing, and having a good time in general. How did she have any right? He was miserable.

He ignored them as best he could. His stomach was rumbling – and, this time, not from hunger. He would ignore it, just as he did most of the things in his life that annoyed him. His sigh was deep and regretful as he pulled out a file and started reading.

Catherine walked by his door, glancing at him only for a second. He looked up just as she looked in, but she did not stop walking. Grissom did not want to leave the sanctity of his office.

"Cath, can you come in here for a second?" he called out to her as she passed.

"What's up, Gil?" she asked as she peeked into his doorway.

He thrust his arm out with the assignments in his hand. "Can you give these out?" It was more of a statement than a question. The avoidance in his eyes was evident as he stared at the pile of folders in front of him.

Catherine squinted at him. Silently, she reached out and took the papers from his hand. The question remained on her face even though Grissom never looked up to see it. She wanted to know why he was resorting to paperwork rather than going out into the field.

Lately, Catherine realized, Grissom had been removing himself from the group. He was watching and waiting, quietly observing everything from the sidelines. His face grew more solemn with each passing day. This was the Grissom she had only seen when cases got the better of him and he needed an escape.

She thought back over the cases he had recently been involved in. Not finding one that should have driven him further inside himself than his usual personal seclusion, Catherine began to worry about her friend. If it was not a case, then what would make Grissom so introspective? Did something happen in his personal life?

They had not talked in a while. She knew she had been more involved with Lindsey lately. The little girl was growing up and needed her mother. Lindsey had been through a lot in the previous few years, and Catherine was trying to divide herself between work and her daughter. These were the tough years for a growing kid, and Catherine was only trying to make them more manageable.

In doing more for herself and her daughter, Catherine had let other relationships fall all around her. Grissom and she had been friends for many years. They had shared many a morning together eating and talking and relaxing. It had never been more than friends. It was just calm and comfortable for them.

They had rough spots, like any other friendship in the world. For what is anything worth if there is no hardship in getting there? Grissom had never been and would never be a sharer in the biggest sense of the word. He was quiet and introspective – a thinker. There were times he would talk about things that worried him, but never ever would he show too much of his soul.

Grissom peered over the top of his glasses at Catherine as she stood just inside the door of his office. "Catherine, I believe the rest of the team is waiting on you," he said with a hint of displeasure at her still invading his space. He watched her thinking, looking, and thinking some more. She looked as if she was trying to figure out how to say something, and that just was not Catherine.

Resignedly, he leaned back in his chair waiting on her to decide it was time to talk. Grissom removed his glasses and held them gingerly in his fingertips. Catherine took that as a sign. It was the first time in weeks that he had even looked like he was willing to talk. It was now or never.

For a second more she hesitated to look at him. He was looking at her expectantly, patiently waiting for her to say something – anything. She took in his eyes and the rest of his appearance in general. Tired. Lost. Forlorn. Beaten. What had happened to him?

She walked further inside and slid into one of the chairs in front of his desk. She knew that standing while he was sitting would make it appear as if she was in control, demanding. Ever the CSI, Catherine knew how to handle people appropriately for almost every situation. Seeing the slight release of tension in his neck, she knew she had been right.

_Now or never, Cath_, she told herself. "Gil..." Catherine sighed not knowing where exactly or how to start. "Is there anything you want to talk about?"

Grissom opened his mouth faintly in an almost mocking gesture. The tension in his neck came back. With the briefest of movement of his head from left to right, he replied, "No." The simple word was belittling. His indifference was unsettling. Catherine wanted to shake him into reality.

"And that's it? _No_? That's all you're going to say?" A pure look of bewilderment crossed her face.

"That's it." Tilting his head for emphasis that the conversation was over, Grissom placed his glasses back on his nose and picked up a file. He poised the file in front of him, reading it from his reclined position.

Catherine stood from the chair and crossed to the door where she turned to look at him. Her training be damned at that moment – he needed to feel some pressure. "Grissom, we've had our moments. Through the good and the bad, we've always remained friends. Maybe not the friendship it was years ago, but friendship still in the least. Times change, I get that. Maybe I'm no longer the person you can talk to. But, damn, Gil, you need to find someone to talk to." She shook her head from side to side for a moment. "You don't see it, do you? Just because you're sitting in here in your office doesn't mean the rest of the world freezes in time. We're out there living, and you're in here pretending to do paperwork."

Grissom opened his mouth to protest, but Catherine stopped him with a wave of her hand as she finished talking. "I'm not going to tell you to pull your head out of your microscope this time. Because that would imply that at least you were doing and caring for something. This time I'm telling you to pull your head out of your ass. Because right now, in that room down the hall there is a group of kids who need you as much as you need them, and you're letting them slip away. More to the point, you're pushing them – _all of us_ – away."

Again, Grissom looked as if he was willing to speak, but Catherine turned and left before he had a chance to even utter a syllable. He watched her walk away as he pursed his lips into a serious frown. Her words, though spoken out of anger, were hitting him deeply. He felt sadness coursing through him.

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Halfway through the shift, Grissom threw the files down in disgust. He had not been able to concentrate properly. His mind continued drifting back to what Catherine had said to him. Every ounce of him wanted to be angry at her, but he could only bring himself to resignation at it. He knew she was right. 

Leaving his office in an utter mess, Grissom left the confines of the lab to find the CSI Tahoe in the parking lot. Catherine had left him a memo detailing who was assigned to each case. She and Greg were working a DB at a strip club. Warrick and Nick were working a triple homicide at the Stratosphere. Sara had been given a drive-by shooting to handle on her own.

Sara was the cause of his internal conflict, and he really did not want to be alone with her right at that moment. However, he knew that they did not need three CSIs at one scene when there was one of them alone. He needed out of the lab, away from his paperwork, and mostly away from his thoughts. Grissom knew he needed the distraction that only working a case could give him.

He pulled up at the crime scene and stared hard at Sara for a moment before he got out of the SUV. She was so meticulous at what she did. The sheer nature of it was sensual to him. Her movements were graceful as she moved from one piece of evidence to the other. To anyone else it would most likely seem abnormal to find an act of placing a bullet casing in a bag erotic. To Gil Grissom it was exhilarating.

Reluctantly, Grissom pulled himself from the seat, grabbing his kit from the back seat on the way. Kit in hand, he walked up to Sara. She was lost in thought as she was picking up another casing from the curb. Sara had seen him drive up but pretended to not notice him at all. By the time he reached her, she had almost forgotten he was there at all.

"Sara," Grissom merely stated in greeting.

She looked up at him momentarily. "Hey, Grissom. What are you doing here?" And, with that said, she was back at work.

"I'm here to help," he stated flatly.

Sara did not look up that time. She focused on scanning the grass with her flashlight. Even though she had already been over that part twice and knew there was nothing there, Grissom would not know it. "I'm fine on my own. Maybe Warrick or Nick could use your help. They've got three bodies and a hotel room to process."

"There are two of them. I'm sure they're fine." He scanned the area before adding, "You've got a lot of ground out here to cover."

Still refusing to look at him, Sara replied dryly, "I don't need help, Grissom. So, don't lose out on quality paperwork time for this."

Grissom let Catherine's words run through his mind again. He now had evidence that she was right. Now, he needed to figure out how to fix it. "Sara... I need out of the lab for a little while. Would you at least let me help you a little?"

The sincerity in his voice struck her oddly. Her eyes flew up to his. She searched his face for an ulterior motive. Finding none, Sara pointed towards the driveway as she said, "I haven't been over there, yet." She felt the need for him to be away from her even if he insisted on being at the same scene.

"Thank you," Grissom said as he walked past her and stopped at the driveway pulling his latex gloves on. Giving the entire scene a once over, making an attempt as sounding more casual than he was feeling, he called over his shoulder, "You're going to remain the primary. I'm just an extra pair of hands."

That brought a smirk and a light chuckle from Sara. She shook her head briefly and went back to work. Since he was not staring at her anymore, Sara actually found a piece of ground to cover that she had not worked on previously.


	2. Chapter 2

_Learning Boundaries_

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_Disclaimer_: Refer To Chapter One

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As the hours passed, Grissom and Sara had danced around each other while they processed the scene. It was like a Waltz with no music. Beautifully they moved around the scene back and forth, around each other until they were done. They each knew what they needed to do, and did it without interrupting the other.

It had been ever so peaceful in those hours together. The time had passed so quickly that it was a surprise that the sun was peeking up over the horizon. The night had almost resembled nights of long ago when everyone was at ease with each other. Sara and Grissom had laughed a few times, shared stories, and actually enjoyed the company of the other.

Both were feeling almost despondent when, together, they stood at the edge of the scene giving it one last look. All the evidence had been piled into the back of the CSI Tahoe Sara had driven there. Shoulder to shoulder, they stood silently, willing the other to speak.

Grissom finally broke the silence. "You did good."

Sara looked at him out of the corner of her eye, turning her head only a fraction in his direction. "_We_ did good. This is a big scene."

The word 'we' sent Grissom into a tailspin. He had been trying to just forget everything – his heart, his emotions, his life – everything except the evidence. He needed another escape. It was far too quiet. His entire body tensed up waiting on what was next, thinking of something to say to say to get out of there.

Not only was Sara working overtime as a CSI, but her brain had been working overtime all night trying to figure out why Grissom was there. She relished the time they spent together, every single second of it. Tonight was no different. Sara had wanted to give the impression of indifference at his appearance at her scene, but she had equally not wanted him to leave.

Sara had fallen for this man years ago, and the feeling had never left. No matter how hard she tried, it was always there. Everywhere, through everything – sleeping, eating, working, showering, watching TV, reading, running, writing. She did everything in her power to try to forget. Nothing had ever been enough to escape him, and she knew in her heart that nothing ever would.

She had vowed to herself that she would not make a fool of herself for him anymore. She went to work one night in the fall and decided that she was an independent woman and she would act that way. That one thought lasted through a full day, and each day after that it got easier.

Sara knew he had feelings for her and that he would not reveal them. She had hoped for so long that he would just show something. Once in a while he had shown a little piece of himself to her, but soon thereafter, he would take it all back and pretend like there was nothing.

They used to at least laugh or joke or share a few moments of quiet. Recently, he had been able to do nothing more than walk away from her when they were near. Sometimes it seemed as if he was repulsed by being in the same room with her. He did not seem to be able to even look into her eyes.

"Grissom, I–"

"So, what now, boss?" he asked quickly in a tone he hoped conveyed neutrality and lightheartedness, and not the fear he was feeling. He cut her off before she could say anything remotely personal. The silence had warned him that something was going to happen. He knew he was not ready to talk to her, yet.

Sara narrowed her eyes slightly at his interruption. It was so out of place for him to just butt in with something like that – or was it? There was the old Grissom, or the new Grissom, or the new old Grissom. Sara was confused. Then it hit her: It was just typical Grissom. He was here, and then he was gone – push and pull. It was just Grissom. Why she was not accustomed to it at that point in her life was concerning.

A small sigh and a shrug of her shoulders showed her defeat. "I guess we head back to the lab. We're done here. I'll take everything in and get ballistics working on the casings we picked up and the bullets we pried out of the houses. I'll take a look at the skid marks, but they don't look fresh. No one saw what happened – they only heard the shots as a vehicle sped past. So, with no eyewitnesses and an abandoned house that was shot up, I'm not sure we have a lot to go on. ... You can go back to your paperwork or... go home... or out... or... _whatever_."

Her overtalking was back. Sara wanted to hit herself in the forehead. She wanted to just run and hide. How could one man be so clueless about the effect he had on her? She hung her head and walked quickly back to her Tahoe and sped away without looking in his direction.

Grissom watched her as she flew away from him. He wondered why she had run away so fast. He only wondered long enough to realize it was because of his stupid remark. His fear had crept up inside him and had pushed her away again. _Why_, Grissom thought, _oh, why can't I just act normal around her?_ He knew, however, that it was because he knew how each of them felt, and he was not willing to admit it to her, but he was afraid she would admit it to him.

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Back at the lab, Sara was scarce. She had not been seen walking the halls. Grissom went in search of her. He assumed he had checked everywhere, but there was no luck. He even went so far as the check the parking lot for her car and the Tahoe she had used that night. With both of them there, he knew she had to be around. 

He wanted to talk, to apologize. But, what would he say? Admitting defeat, he walked back to his office and sat down at his desk and started on the paperwork. His distress was eating him alive. Feeling a migraine approaching, Grissom removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Finally removing his hand from in front of his face and opening his eyes, Grissom blinked a couple of times to make sure he was not dreaming. The long-legged brunette was standing in his doorway, leaning on the doorjamb, with her arms crossed in front of her chest. She stood there for a few minutes just watching him, eyeing him cautiously.

"Do you have a minute?" she managed to ask. The sad look in her eyes scared him.

"For you? I have as many as you need." He gestured for a chair. "Come in."

"I'm fine."

"Okay," he replied meekly. He just wanted her close – close enough so she might leave some of her shampoo smell in his office. Grimacing at that selfish thought, he internally told himself he was being foolish.

"Grissom, I want to thank you for coming out to the scene today..." Sara looked nervously at her feet. "I wanted to tell you that earlier, but I... you didn't give me a chance to say it."

Grissom started yelling at himself. He was raving mad at himself for being so insensitive to not have let her say that earlier. His own fear was getting in the way of normal emotions. Grissom felt he was screwing everything up. Vulnerability came flowing out of her eyes when she looked up into his.

Sara continued, "I know you have a lot of paperwork to handle recently. It... I know you came out there to help me, and I hadn't meant to sound ungrateful when you got there. I really appreciated you taking the time out of the paperwork and giving me the hand... So, I was wondering if you needed me to help with anything." Sara paused briefly, getting a little surer of herself as she started stating facts about the case. "Bobby is running the bullets and casings through IBIS. I came up with nothing on the tread marks. Without a gun or something to go on, right now, the case is at a standstill. So, I'm free for a little while."

Peace. A Truce. Grissom knew in that moment everything was, at that point in time, okay between the two of them. A small step towards helping her had went a long way to mending the fences he had broken. And, she had been gracious enough to come back to offer him that second chance. He knew he did not deserve it, yet he took it nonetheless.

Wanting her around more than anything else, he said, "Yeah. Have a seat, and take a file." He gestured towards the stack of files on one side of the desk. "There are a few open cases that could use a little more insight. See if you can find anything that was missed the first time around, evidence out of context, or a link tying anything together."

She smiled at the warmth and trust in his voice. Quickly, Sara sat down and grabbed a file and started thumbing through it. She found a comfortable spot in the chair and settled in. It had been hard for her to walk to him, knowing why she really wanted to be with him, but she wanted her mentor back almost as much as she wanted him personally.

"Thank you, Sara," Grissom replied with the most generous smile he had worn in months. She nodded and continued looking through the file.

They talked and looked over the files for hours. After about an hour Sara had moved her chair around the desk to sit directly beside Grissom. He had welcomed the closeness. At first, he believed it would be hard for him to concentrate, but he had proved himself wrong. They were great together.

Catherine walked by on her way out of the lab. She stopped into Grissom's office. Seeing Grissom and Sara sitting together working almost made her gasp. Never in her wildest dreams had she actually believed that Gil Grissom would listen to her and act on her advice that fast.

Silently, she crept from the door. Grissom caught the movement and looked at her over the top of his glasses. Their eyes met and he gave her a serene nod thanking her for the talk. Her response was an extremely bright smile as she slipped around the corner and out the door of the building.

Soon, it was noon, and they were both hungry and tired. Day shift had come in and filled the halls with irregular noises. Sara checked with Bobby about the case, only to find out that he had nothing. It was a dead end, much like the case was looking, but at least they would have something if the same guns were used again.

Sara came back after talking to Bobby and looked at Grissom still sitting behind his desk. She watched him from the door again for a moment before saying, "Gris, it's late, and we have to be back here in about ten hours. Why don't we..." She fought with herself over asking the question. It hurt so much the last time she had asked it.

Why did she force herself into this position? Why was she still affected by him? She knew in her mind, he did not want her – he had even said so. Yet, Sara continued putting herself in the position where she was bound to him. Just being in his presence made her lose her train of thought.

Sara knew she was a very professional CSI on the job. That was never a question or point of contention. When focused on evidence or a case, she was completely objective, but when she was alone with him, her mind was a clutter of nerves.

Grissom peered over the top of his glasses and the file at her. His mind was thinking more about the case than anything. Why did she look so pensive?

It was the best night in months with Grissom. She wondered if this would ruin it. She could either run now and just ignore it, or she could actually finish her thought and face the aftermath. Her mouth was the one that came to a conclusion before her mind could continue thinking. "Do you want to go get some lunch?"

He just sat and looked at her for a second. Sara sensed the hesitation. She started rambling, "If you have other plans... or just want to go home... um... Never mind. I shouldn't've... I'm sorry." She turned to go.

Grissom watched her go, and his heart broke. "Sara." Against his better judgment, he had to stop her.

She turned briefly a few feet from the door and turned to face him. Looking into his eyes was almost too much. She swallowed hard and waited for the ultimate rejection again.

"I'd love to have lunch," Grissom replied as he shut the file. He watched relief flood her face as he walked from behind the desk and crossed the room. He flipped out the light and locked the door behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

_Learning Boundaries_

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_Disclaimer_: Refer To Chapter One.

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Together, they walked from the lab. Grissom placed a hand on the small of her back as he led her out the door and to her car. It was instinctual, and Grissom almost pulled his hand back when he realized what he had done. The internal struggle waged in him between wanting to touch her and not wanting to indicate that there was more.

Grissom was not sure this was a great idea to go out to lunch. But, he continued to tell himself that it was a lunch between coworkers, not a lunch between two people that had feelings for each other. His entire being was torn between wanting her to be happy and him wanting her to himself.

If there was a possibility that Sara believed this was more, she might decide to be withdrawn again and lose that damn smile that irritated him so much. It was not her smile that irritated him, but that the smile was not meant for him. He realized that as he pulled completely away from her that was the time she had become the most happy in recent years.

They stopped at her car. It was then that he removed his hand. "Any special place you want to go eat?" he heard himself asking. Immediately, Grissom hated the way the words came out.

Sara turned around after unlocking the door. The sound in Grissom's voice made her hesitate a little herself. _God_, Sara thought, _this is awkward._ She hated the impulse she had had to ask him to lunch, but there was no way out of it now – unless he wanted out.

"Um... I... we don't have to do this..." Sara stammered.

"What about waffles?" he asked with a small with a hint of a grin.

Sara felt herself relax just a little. They had been together for most of the night. They had talked for hours about anything and everything they could think of, and now, she was having trouble picking food for the meal she had just asked him to. "Waffles sound... good."

They agreed on the diner just down the road, and the waffles were rumored to be stellar. It was a place that neither of them had been to before, and it sounded like fun to try something new. After agreeing where to go, they both got in their vehicles and left the crime lab parking lot.

Inside the diner, Grissom and Sara sat opposite each other at a booth, both waiting on their order of waffles to be delivered. Conversation was light. After all the hours they had talked there were still little things to talk about – weather, news, Vegas – anything neutral. Even though dead bodies and talking about them was commonplace, neither approached the subject of work.

The meals were delivered, and the talk continued just the same. Both of them were relaxing and feeling completely comfortable. The lunch was over too quickly. Grissom paid the bill, to which Sara disagreed furiously.

"Grissom, I asked you to lunch. This isn't fair," she protested.

"Fair or not, you're not paying. Not this time." He eyed her quizzically before adding, "You can pick up the tab on our next lunch."

Sara found herself almost speechless. As stunned as she was, she replied, "Okay. That's a deal."

The friendship was rekindled. It was almost as if she had just stepped off of the plane and entered Las Vegas for the first time. They could look at each other and talk. They could be together and not worry about what they might say to screw it up. Both went home to relive the events of the day.

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Days passed faster than ever. The lab was comfortable again. Neither Sara nor Grissom had mentioned the lunch to anyone, and they had not approached going out to another meal alone together. It was not intentional, but it had just not come about in the course of events. 

The cases had been hard, but the CSIs were tougher. Through it all, they were still a family. They had even gotten Grissom to go to breakfast or out for drinks a couple of times when they got off at the same time.

Catherine talked to Grissom, and he had actually thanked her for the insight into what had become a very tense situation. And, he invited her over to his townhouse for breakfast a few times. Once, he even went to a park with her and Lindsey on a Saturday. He felt like he was part of the living world again.

Everything was perfect, or so Grissom thought. He went to work one fateful Sunday night with that thought on his mind. Happily he had placed his jacket on his chair in his office, checked his messages, and picked up the assignments for the group. He was about to head to the breakroom when he heard voices filtering down the hall catching his attention.

From the darkness of his office, he watched Sara and Greg laughing, walking down the hallway. Grissom then watched as Greg put an arm around Sara's shoulders and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Every single nerve in Grissom's body tingled with anger at that moment in time.

However, that anger only increased when he saw Sara put her arm around Greg's waist and pull him closer as they walked. His face turned red and he pulled back further into the darkness as they passed his office. Not that it mattered if he hid in the shadows, because they were obviously not paying attention to anyone else.

It was then that Grissom realized he had missed his chance. Sara had given him a way in time after time, and he was just too afraid to take the risk. It had been so good between them for the past few weeks. It was like he had his Sara back. But, she was not _his_ Sara anymore. She was never really _his_ Sara at all.

His heart broke into tiny pieces, and he wanted to walk out there and rip Greg's head off. It was not rational thought, but it was still how he felt just thinking of someone else touching Sara. He liked Greg, he did, but this was just too much to handle. Grissom wondered how he had missed the signs. And, he could not help but wonder when it had all started.

His emotions were out of control. Grissom forced himself to calm down. He had no right to be angry with Sara or anyone she chose to be with. She was young and beautiful and sexy and happy. There was no guy in their right mind who would pass up the opportunity to be with Sara Sidle. Grissom had not felt in his right mind in a long time.

Her smile was infectious. Everyone in the breakroom had caught it by the time Grissom walked in. Grissom cleared his throat, interrupting the festive time that the team was having. He eyed each of them, making them feel guilty for having too much fun.

"Nick, you and Sara are on a DB on Stoney Bluff Ave." he said as he handed the paper to Nick. "Warrick, you're on a suspicious circs over on Freemont St." He handed the paper to Warrick. "Catherine, you and Greg have a DB of your own at the Bellagio." He said not another word as he handed the paper to her and walked from the room.

"What's with him?" Nick asked.

"Who knows what makes him tick," Warrick replied walking from the room, "He's up and down like his own personal roller coaster."

They all went to work and left Grissom filling out forms and paperwork in his office. As time carried on, Grissom felt himself coming to a conclusion about Sara. As much as he wanted to be with her, he felt it would not be right to either of them. Sara looked happy with Greg, and if that was what she wanted, then so be it.

A conversation in the hallway made him question his own sanity. Judy was standing by the water cooler talking to one of the newest receptionists. She was telling the new girl all of the office gossip and giving a little who's who of the building.

Judy whispered, "Greg's a real flirt. He'll do anything to get attention. Today, he told me he and Sara – she's the dark-haired, moody CSI you bumped into earlier in the shift – made a bet. He lost the bet on purpose. His part of the bet was that he'd have to shower her with small gifts and flirty stuff for 24 hours."

Judy glanced around in the hall before continuing. "He's got a little crush on her… but if you ask me, Sara's interested in someone else here in the building. Greg's a good catch. Fun to be with. You two would be a really cute couple. I'm going to have to introduce you when we see him around again tonight."

They giggled like a couple of schoolgirls, walking off down the hallway heading back to their desks. Grissom forced himself to forget the hallway conversation and get back to work. He shook his head wondering how he could be so clueless when everyone else in the building seemed to know more about Sara than he did.


	4. Chapter 4

_Learning Boundaries_

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Disclaimer: Refer To Chapter One._

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Pulling the last file from his desk, Grissom watched as Brass hovered outside his office. "Jim, you need something?" he asked through the doorway.

"Yeah, Gil, I do," Brass said, walking into the office. He slid the chair out a bit as he placed himself down. "I need to talk to you about Sara."

Grissom heaved a heavy sigh as one eyebrow rose quizzically. "I'm assuming this is important for you to come to me about it."

"I think she needs to talk to someone. I'm not here to tell you how to do your job or anything. I just want to make sure she's okay."

This caused Grissom to clear his throat. "What happened?" Grissom asked with the best supervisory tone that he could muster.

"Today? Or do you want to know about the other three incidents in the last two weeks?"

"God, Jim, what happened?" His voice was full of concern, fearing that somehow Sara had been harmed by someone or something.

"It's nothing specific..." Brass was hesitant even though he knew it had to be discussed.

"You wouldn't be here if it wasn't," Grissom sighed with irritation showing through in his voice.

"I'll start at the most recent. Today, she was late to the scene. Two days ago, she told a suspect off. Three days before that, she walked into a scene before it was secure. And, about a week before that she went off on one of the officers."

"Any idea what caused these episodes?" It was at this point that Grissom realized it was Sara that caused them, rather than them happening to her.

"Well, it's just speculation, but I think it's... you." Brass looked directly at Grissom without flinching in the least.

Grissom was clearly startled. "You never have been one to mince words, have you Jim? I really must say, however, that I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Look, Gil, we've worked together for years. I trust you with my life. You could at least show me enough dignity not to lie to my face."

Resignation on his face, Grissom said, "What makes you think they had something to do with me?"

"Let's just say there was a reference to you in each case."

"_Jim_..." Grissom demanded.

"Well... first, an officer made a joke about you in front of Sara, and she all but tore into him when she was through giving him an earful. Second, there were bugs crawling around at one scene, and she ran in there to scoop them up before we knew if there was a threat in the house. Third, during a case the two of you were on, the suspect started complaining about you, and she just... well, told them like it was." Brass never took his eyes off of Grissom, watching his face for a reaction.

"And today?" Grissom pursed his lips.

"Today," Brass said, looking pensive, "today is a little harder to explain. Today, she pulled up at the scene. It was nothing unusual, except that she was about 30 minutes late. When I joked about it, she became defensive. I let it go, of course, but later I looked in the SUV, and she had a Barnes & Noble bag sitting on the seat and a Christmas card laying on top of it."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"It has everything to do with you, Gil. You and I both know it. People don't get themselves Christmas cards." Brass glanced out in the hall briefly. "That girl has feelings for you – just as you do for her."

Grissom opened his mouth slightly and chewed the words around while he was staring at his fingers. "Jim... I..."

"I know. I know. You don't want to talk about it. Hell, Gil, you probably don't even want to think about it." He stood and walked to the door. "I was in that interrogation room with you. I'm a detective, but it didn't take one to know what and who you were talking about. Do me a favor, do it for you, but mostly do it for her. Make a decision. One way or another you need to make a choice."

"Jim, I took someone's advice two weeks ago. It has only served in making matters worse."

"That's because you didn't make a decision." He sighed. "I'm not here to pass judgment. I'm just here as a friend." Brass walked out leaving Grissom staring after him.

* * *

The end of shift was nearing, and Sara walked into the hallway with Warrick this time. They were walking close together so that their arms were brushing up against each other. Grissom remembered times that he and she had walked like that. Everyone was driving him over the edge of jealousy. 

Grissom admitted to himself that he was selfish. Every time he thought he was going to lose Sara, he ran to her with something small to make her stay – a word, a look, the most minute gesture. After that, he showed nothing until the next time he felt it was necessary to keep her by his side. In times where she would start getting close, he would break the spell. It truly was the most selfish of acts.

Nick came walking into Grissom's office. "You wanna go out for a drink, Gris?"

Grissom looked up, clearly disturbed at the interruption. As he was looking at Nick, Sara came walking up behind him. She peeked into the office with the cutest of grins on her face. It was a playful look, and Grissom almost felt himself melt.

"Hey, Nick," she cooed teasingly and poked him in the arm. "You got here before I did. Glad we didn't bet on that." Sara turned her attention to Grissom asking, "So, you ready to head out for some breakfast?"

"Thank you both for the offer, but I have responsibilities here at the lab." His tone conveyed neutrality, and for once Grissom was amazed. Pushing indifference with Sara just might make his decision for him.

"You're going to miss out on a great omelet, Gris," Sara replied with a grin on her face.

Grissom only peered up over his glasses. His eyes were on her smile. He reminded himself to remain in his seat. Neutrality. Decline.

"C'mon, Grissom. Food," Nick pressed.

"Grissssom..." Sara pleaded with him, "I'm buying." That smile on her lips was taunting him.

"Oh, c'mon, man, how can you turn that down?" Nick probed. It was more of a statement than a question. Or so Grissom wanted to think. Each day it was harder and harder for him to turn anything Sara said down.

Again, Grissom had to will himself to stay in his seat. "You guys go. Have fun. I'll see you at shift tonight." He returned his eyes to his paperwork.

Reluctantly, Nick and Sara walked away. Grissom turned his eyes back up to watch her walk away. His heart tumbled at the sight of her grabbing Nick's arm, tugging him down the hall. Every ounce of him wanted him to be the man she was holding – to feel her hands on his skin.

* * *

"Grissom," he said sleepily into the phone. 

"Gris." It was the voice that needed no introduction.

Immediately, his eyes flew open. What was wrong? Was she hurt? His mind was racing attempting to figure out why she would call him in the middle of the day. No, he calmed himself down. She sounded far too composed to be in trouble. Or did she just not want to worry him?

"What's wrong, honey?" The words were out before he could stop himself. When his heart reacted before his brain the word 'honey' was always there. Actually, it was always on the tip of his tongue, just never spoken.

Silence. Dead and utter silence. She had caught the word as well. Sara pondered the word for a moment, using it to steady her resolve as to why she had called him. It was so sweet when it rolled off of his tongue, just a little more satisfying than when he said her name with that husky voice of his. Shivers ran through her body as the thought ran through her mind.

"Sara?" Grissom asked hesitantly.

His voice calling her name. It made her voice shaky as she pressed herself to say something. "Gri–Grissom, I was wondering..." Sara fought to make a conscious thought. "I haven't been able to go to sleep. I–I've just been sitting here thinking... Do you think we could talk?"

"Sara, it's the middle of the day. What's wrong?" He tried to be neutral, but he knew right where she was headed. There was no way out of this without hurting her again.

"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't even think of the time when I called. I just can't sleep. I've just been thinking a lot... about things. Maybe we don't have to talk now... but later?"

Her voice begged him to submit to the whims of his heart. Knowing for sure that anything he said would backfire, he relented. It would at least buy him some time to think about what he could say. Or maybe give him time to show her there was nothing to talk about. She might just need some time to think it over for herself.

"Sure, Sara. We can talk later."

"Thanks," Sara whispered. He could hear the relief in her voice.

"Mm-hmm." He hated himself in that moment. Her heart was going to break, and so was his. Why did he have to keep doing this to himself and to her? Grissom squinted his eyes shut and listened to her breathing over the line.

"Grissom?" asked Sara's uncertain and shaky voice.

"Yes, Sara," he replied almost as quietly as she had spoken.

"G'night, Grissom."

"Goodnight, Sara."

The connection went dead. Sara just listened to the silence in her apartment, phone still pressed to her ear. Her eyes were closed as she pictures his face. She pondered what he was doing at that very minute. Was he smiling? No, probably not. He was most likely freaking out at the thought of her getting near him.

She felt in her soul that she had just botched everything up. He had tried to reach out in the way he could. He wanted to be friends, and she was pushing it. She had pushed too hard and was going to lose him forever.

Inside, she was torn up over wanting him to be more than he wanted to be with her. She hated herself for making the call and making herself vulnerable to him – not to him, but more to herself. She was weak when it came to him, and it killed her that she could not control the hold he unknowingly had on her heart.

Sara hoped in that instant that he would just forget the call. Pretend it had never happened – like he did with so many other things in his life.


	5. Chapter 5

_Learning Boundaries_

* * *

_Disclaimer_: Refer To Chapter One.

* * *

Back to life as usual – or at least back to the pain. Tensions had started growing again the day after the call. Grissom had, in fact, pretended that the phone call had never happened. Sara had done so as well. It was easier that way. No reason to face it, right?

"It's a busy night, tonight," Grissom said as he walked into the breakroom, "You're all going out on calls alone. Pick one and get to work." He dropped the slips of paper on the table. "Except you, Greg." He glanced at the young CSI. "You're needed in the lab tonight. The newest DNA tech is out sick." Then, he was gone before anyone could protest.

Frowning at the slips of paper, everyone reached at them all at once. They were about to start squabbling over who got what when Greg asked them, "Doesn't he ever leave the lab anymore?"

They all stole glances at each other waiting to see who would speak first. All of them sat in silence looking at their assignment sheets they had picked up.

Nick nervously broke the silence, "He's always where we least expect him. He's just Grissom."

Warrick piped up at that, "He's always beat us to crime scenes. Now, it's like they don't exist except on paper." He shook the paper in his hand for emphasis.

"Come on, guys, let's go before the bodies get cold," Catherine replied. "Don't dwell on it too much. He's just got a lot of cases to review. It has been busy lately." She knew she was covering for him, and hated Grissom for making her do it. She was literally disgusted that he had slipped back into his shell.

Sara said nothing. She just got out of her seat and walked to the locker room to get her coat from her locker. Everyone else sat there staring at their assignments. Catherine walked out after her and caught up with her.

"Sara, is everything okay? You were really quiet back there," she said with obvious concern in her voice.

Sara mustered a smile and replied, "Yeah. I'm good. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just quiet is all. Look, if there's anything you want to talk about, let me know."

"I've just got a few things on my mind. It's nothing that won't pass in time." Sara hung her head towards the floor feeling nervous.

"Did Grissom do something?" Catherine asked with slightly raised eyebrows.

That brought Sara's attention back up from the floor, her defenses flaring. "Huh? Why would this have anything to do with Grissom?"

"Whoa there. I was just asking a question. I know he's prone to acting like a jerk sometimes, and he's been in one of his brooding moods. I thought he might've said something... thoughtless."

"No. In fact, he hasn't really said anything to me in a while." Sara immediately hated those few words as they revealed more than she had intended.

Catherine looked at her a few minutes more. The hurt conveyed in Sara's eyes forced her to look away. Both fought with words as the silence told them there was nothing that they could say to make the situation better.

"Well," Sara said, "you said it best. My body is getting cold." She looked up, wearing a tight, fake smile. "I'll see you later, Cath."

Grissom sat on the edge of his desk pinching the bridge of his nose. The headaches were coming more and more frequently with each passing week. Sometimes he had fought through the pain, reminding himself that the pain in his head was better than the pain in his heart.

Each member of the team passed by on their way out of the building. He saw none of them as each stole a glance at him, becoming a shell of the man he used to be.

As the end of shift approached, Grissom was deeply involved in case reviews. His headache had approached a tolerable level as the hours had passed. He continued working until everyone that had passed his office on way to cases had passed it again and again walking around the lab, and finally passing again, leaving for the day.

Everyone except that long-legged brunette who was standing in his doorway again. Her thin frame was leaning against the doorjamb in her usual casual manner she had adopted when entering his office. Her smile radiated nervousness as she watched him working.

Grissom looked up at her as his heart started beating ferociously in his ears. _This is it_, he thought, _Be careful, Gil_. He tugged at his glasses, pulling them off of his nose.

"Do you have a minute to talk?" Sara asked tentatively.

"I'm rather busy." Nervously, Grissom ran his hand across his mouth. "There are a lot of cases that need to be cleared off my desk."

"I can help you with those." Her shoulders moved in the briefest of shrugs, mimicking the slight movement of her eyebrows. "If you want."

"Sara…" Grissom looked at his hands uncertainly. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Okay, Grissom. Have a good day." Her words stuck in her throat, and her stomach tied itself in a knot. Slowly, Sara tore herself away from the doorframe and walked down the hall and out of sight. Her head was hanging in defeat. By the time Grissom looked up, she was gone.

Her eyes were closed while she was walking. After the many years of working in the Vegas crime lab, her feet knew the halls and led her out to her car safely. She had promised herself that she would not make a fool of herself for Gil Grissom again. What was it about him that drove her to keep forgetting that?

Every time she walked away from him, a little piece of her was lost. A little bit of her died each time she turned away from him. His eyes, those bright blue eyes, drove her over the edge when he looked at her. She did everything in her power to ignore them, but it was so hard to look away.

She drove herself home thinking of all the things she wanted to tell him. Berating herself for still thinking of the man that continued to play with her heart. No. Sara thought about it and decided he was just Grissom, inept at feeling. He had no idea what was he was doing.

Sleep evaded her as she continued to think of the last five years, starting at the point she received a call in the middle of the night telling her she was needed. Then, Norman came crashing from a rooftop and the sound of that voice in her ears. The memory of him turning around to her was seared into her brain. Happy. Vibrant. Alive.

That was a long time ago, and everything had changed. What she once looked upon as possible was becoming more and more distant as each day passed. Because each day he pressed his nose further into a file, that was one more day she went home alone letting him pull further away from her.

The thoughts that brought her so much joy were bringing pain. Pain that was searing through her body. Each day when she went into the office and saw those blue eyes she was reminded of what she would and could never have. She relived every moment they had spent together on cases and how close he was to her, and yet so far.

Had she caused the mess between them? Had she read too much into his actions and made their friendship difficult? Had she ruined being close to him because she wanted more? He was distant, untouchable, now. The playful, funny Grissom was gone, and she feared she was the one to cause it.

She cried herself to sleep that night. Knowing she loved that man made her feel more pain than she thought possible. Her dreams were fraught with desires and wishes for her future. A future that she wanted, and could never have, with Grissom.

Across town, Grissom slumped into the couch in his townhouse. The bottle of water in his hand was a pathetic, however appropriate, chaser to the pill he had just popped into his mouth. The headaches were becoming more and more a constant in his life, only lulling into a dull throb haunting him each waking moment. He figured he would grow used to it. It would be the persistent physical pain in his life to rival the almost as relentless emotional pain.

* * *

There was her frown again. That was actually _his_ frown. He was the cause of her wearing it each day for the past couple of weeks. It was the frown she wore when he did something to upset her. It was the frown that told him he was affecting her. It was the frown that told him she was still here working with him and not somewhere else doing something else with someone else. 

It was a guilty pleasure. Grissom was relieved and disgusted by it at the same time. The simple fact was that neither could be happy at the same time. Was there a happy medium? Grissom was not sure he could settle for a happy medium. He needed her to be close, but not so close that she touched him.

Grissom realized it was a sad trade-off. He was either granted the frown that reminded him she was as miserable as he was or the smile that warmed his heart. What bothered him the most was that, along with her wearing the frown, Sara spent less and less time standing in his doorway.

Weeks turned into months, and months led into a new season. Spring had sprung with new flowers and a new Sara as well. Her smile and witty, playful banter had come back in full force. In all honesty, Grissom had to admit that it was beautiful to watch.

She was so gorgeous when she smiled. Her smile radiated so much happiness that it brought her entire face alive. Grissom felt it extremely hard not to stare at her when she was laughing at a joke or smiling at a piece of evidence that sealed a case airtight. That squint in her eyes and slow blink when she was truly happy drove Grissom over the edge.

Tensions had slowly been dissolving. Over the months, the other members of the team had felt the rift, yet no one said anything. It was workable, they all agreed without words. Work had not suffered in the least. They were both professions after all.

Grissom and Sara found that time had helped them be able to work together as they used to. They had always worked so well together. It was a silent understanding of what the other needed. The unspoken bond of two people who needed to be there with the other forced them into an undeclared truce.

As long as Sara was not suffering, Grissom knew he could keep his resolve to stay away from her. She was with him, and she was happy. There was nothing more he could ask for than that.


End file.
